THREE THIRTEEN
by SANDEFUR
Summary: One of my favorite episodes in this imaginary third season. Sequel to #312.


THREE THIRTEEN

by SANDEFUR

1-3-06/early Tuesday morning.

At Arcadia Regional Airport, Kevin and Barbara Greyson are in a quiet corner of an airport lounge, speaking in whispers…

"So, are you going to see your doctor?" Barbara asks.

"I said I'd think about it."

"Kevin, this is something your physican should know. Neural regeneration is a big deal."

"He already knows. I discussed it with him two years ago when I first experienced renewed sensations below the waist. They ran tests and said I had about a five percent return of feeling, and that those feelings had nothing to do with renewed motor skills. Despite the occasional sensation down there, I'll never be able to move my legs."

"I remember when I asked if you could feel it if I caressed your thigh, you said no, but if I jammed in a fork, that you would feel."

"Which is a rare thing for a parapalegic. Virtually none have a return of feeling after an accident like mine."

"Yes, but when we slept together, you…"

"Shh!" (Kevin looks about guiltily.) "We said we would never talk of that."

"To other people, not to each other. Kevin, don't let the guilt make you paranoid. That will give away our secret too."

"I can't help it. I betrayed the woman I love. I'll carry that guilt until the day I die."

"I get it. I feel guilty too. You have a fiancee, and I have a boyfriend. What we did was wrong, but understandable. We both realized we had a strong attraction to each other, but we never planned to act on those feelings. We couldn't forsee that we would be snowbound in your apartment for three days."

"So we revert to being animals?"

"Hey, don't cheapen it. The sex was good, and our attraction was real. More importantly, you felt an orgasm for the first time since your accident."

"Faintly."

"Even so, that's progress. You said the last time you had sex, you didn't feel anything."

"Yeah, two years ago with Rebecca. Then it was all about her pleasure, and getting fulfillment from that. I see your point, and if I had discovered this renewed sensation with Lily on our wedding night, I'd be ecstatic."

"So you're going to let guilt rob you of the possibilities? Kevin, you owe it to yourself, heck you owe it to Lily, to explore every potential improvement."

"Okay, okay, stop nagging. I promise I will go to the doctor and dutifully report my faint moment of orgasmic pleasure."

"Finally. And in turn, I promise never to discuss our snowbound indiscretion with anyone."

"Thanks, for all the good it will do. Too many people already know: your step-dad. your brother, Joan…"

"They only know I spent three days in your apartment. What happened there remains our secret."

"Even so, when Lily finds out that I spent three days alone with a beautiful young woman…"

"Why does she have to find out? John and Dylan barely know her. I'll just ask them to never mention it. They can be discreet. As for your sister, surely you can trust her."

"Crazy Joan? I can ask her to keep quiet, but these days I never know what Joan will do."

X X X X X

At that moment at the Girardi house, Joan exits, locks the front door and walks to the steps. She stops short when she sees Little Girl God in the snow, making a snow angel.

"Hey, that's a good way to catch a cold."

Litle Girl God laughs. "I don't catch colds, Joan. Besides, science has proven that being cold and wet doesn't cause colds. Care to join me? You use to love to do this when you were a little girl."

"No thanks. It's the first day back to school, and I prefer to show up without a soggy backside."

Joan goes down the steps to the cleared sidewalk. Little Girl God joins her.

"You don't seem too happy about the start of a new year."

"After the way things have been going, can you blame me? I had a lousy Christmas, I missed my Grandpa's wedding because of all of this snow, my family thinks I'm crazy and barely talks to me. I had to drop Biology 2 to escape being under the thumb of Ryan's spy, and of course the only available course was my Mom's basic drawing class. Did I leave anything out? Oh yes, my attempted reconciliation with Dylan blew up in my face, and now he hates me."

"He doesn't hate you Joan, despite all the pain he is suffering. He just pities you because he thinks you're insane, and of course, he has totally given up on the idea of the two of you ever being a couple."

"I really cared for him! I realize now my Mom and Grace were right, Dylan was my rebound guy from Adam. Even so, smart, nice, good-looking boyfriends don't grow on trees."

"Your point being?"

"I'm starting my last semester of high school, and once again, I DON'T HAVE A BOYFRIEND!"

"Yes. I've noticed you complain about that often. So, good news on that front. Today someone will ask you out. Accept the date."

Joan lowers her head and groans.

"Problem?"

"It's just that your track record in this area isn't the greatest. The last time you told me to date someone, I had that nightmare experience with Steve Ramsey, the psycho gun nut."

"And twenty two lives were saved. Accept the date, Joan."

Joan sighs deeply. "I hear and obey."

Joan turns and walks towards the Jeep, imitating the 'God-wave' as she goes. Little Girl God laughs and jumps back into the snow. She giggles and starts a new snow angel.

X X X X X

Back at the airport, in the luggage area, Will, Helen and Luke are busy snagging their bags from the carousel. Kevin, passing by, stops short when he sees them.

"Hey guys, what are you doing here?"

The three other Girardis respond with effusive greetings. After handshakes and hugs are exchanged…

Luke asks, "Kevin, how did you know we were arriving now?"

"I didn't. The last I heard, the earliest flight you could get was tomorrow afternoon."

Helen says, "With the snow melting so fast, regular flights were restored earlier than expected. We were on standby, and caught the first flight we could."

Will asks, "Kev, what brought you to the airport in weather like this?"

"I gave Barbara Greyson a ride. Her classes at U.S.C. were starting."

"Who is Barbara Greyson?"

"Honestly Will, you never listen. I told you John's step-daughter was visiting over the holidays."

"Oh right, I remember. So Kev, how did you get stuck with giving this girl a ride to the airport?"

"I volunteered. Barbara and I got friendly during her visit. She's a film student, and her senior class project was to make a movie that involves a paralyzed character. I was her technical adviser."

Luke asks, "Kev, just how friendly did you get with this girl?"

"Children should learn to be quiet when adults are talking. So Mom, how was the wedding?"

"Just beautiful. The beach at sunset was a gorgeous setting for a wedding. Dad looked so handsome in a white suit, and Leona made a lovely bride. I was so moved, I cried."

Kevin jokes, "What? You Mom? I'm stunned. I'm amazed…"

"Alright, wise guy, so I'm sentimental. Someone in this family should be."

Will adds, "Besides, it wouldn't be a wedding if Helen didn't cry. Kevin, what about Joan?"

"I've been stuck in my apartment until today, but I spoke with her on the phone. She handled the storm okay, and even managed to get the sidewalks cleared of snow. But, I think she's depressed."

"Did she say that?"

"No, just my impression of her mood. Partly due to her strained relations with the family, and partly due to her latest fight with Dylan. According to Barbara, her brother and Joan had a big blow up on New Year's eve. They are officially, and irrevocably kaput."

Helen sighs. "Poor Joan, she's been through so much."

"Helen, no more sympathy. Remember, we all agreed it was time for some tough love. We have to be united in getting Joan back into therapy."

"I know, but I wish there was another way. All Joan wants is for us to trust her."

Luke says, "Mom, she wants us to trust her bizarre instincts over all logic and evidence. As a member of her family, and her circle of friends, I can tell you we have indulged Joan for too long. She's getting worse, and if we don't act soon, we have only ourselves to blame for enabling her break from reality."

Will nods his agreement. "Well said. Helen, are you with us?"

Helen sighs. "I suppose it can do no harm to have Joan return to therapy."

"That's my gal! Now, do we have all of our luggage? I need to get into the office as soon as I can. We're two days past our return date."

Kevin says, "Here's an idea. I can drive Mom and Luke directly to school while Dad takes the Volvo."

Will responds, "Good idea. I can load the luggage into the car and drive directly to the police station."

"And Luke and I won't have to miss an extra day of school. We have just enough time to make it, but Will, all this luggage. Can you manage?"

"Don't worry, I'll get a skycap to help. You guys hurry before you're late."

Helen and Will share a brief kiss before she joins Luke and Kevin as they leave. Kevin calls back over his shoulder…

"Dad, don't forget you have twenty inches of snow to clear off the car."

"No problem." (Then under his breath…) "Twenty inches? Crap!"

X X X X X

A short time later at Arcadia High, Joan, Grace and Friedman are busy pulling books out of their lockers...

"Friedman, how was the cruise?" Joan asks.

"Awesome, as usual."

"Dude, another cruise?"

"What can I say? It's the preferred manner of vacation for the Friedman family. Mine too."

Grace asks, "What do you like about it?"

"Great views, good food, lots of entertainment, and plenty of pretty girls in bikinis. Oh my!"

Joan asks, "Did you connect with any of them?"

"Hey, you know me and the ladies."

Grace smirks, "In other words, no."

"No with an exclamation point. There was this one girl I kind of liked, and I asked her to go to the ship's dance club with me. You know, it always hurts when they turn you down, but when they actually laugh... Well, there should be a flag on the play for unnecessary roughness."

Grace says, "Sorry, Dude. That was cruel."

Friedman stares for a beat, and then hangs his head. "Truly I have reached rock bottom when Grace Polk is offering sympathy about my love life."

Glynis and Adam, holding hands, walk up to the group."

Adam remarks, "Looks like the old gang is back together."

Glynis says, "Except for Luke. He isn't sick, is he?"

Joan replies, "No, just weather delayed. He and my parents aren't due back from Florida until tomorrow."

Glynis nods. "The weather affected a lot of plans. Adam and I were going to spend New Year's eve together, but instead, we had a three day separation."

They briefly kiss.

Adam says, "Grace, you must be missing Luke. He's been gone since Christmas."

"Yeah, well, I got some me-time, and he did leave a few messages in my voice mail."

Joan asks, "You didn't speak to him? Are you and Luke having problems?"

"All couples have issues they have to deal with. For instance..." Grace indicates with her head to look to the side. Everyone glances over and sees Dylan Hunter and Dillon Samuels holding hands as they walk by.

The pair whispers intimately, seemingly unaware of the attention they are gathering. The couple pauses and shares a long, passionate kiss. It is obvious to all that this is a deliberate snub to Joan. The sub-defectives openly stare until the couple walks away and turns the corner...

"When the hell did that happen? He was with me on New Year's Eve!" Joan angrily states.

Grace says, "Ease back on the outrage, Girardi. Didn't you call me on the night of the thirty-first blubbering over you and him finally and forever calling it quits?"

"I wasn't blubbering."

"It sounded like crocodile tears to me."

"Whatever. And what about Dillon, Samuels I mean. How could she do this to me? I saved her life!"

Glynis remarks, "For most people, gratitude is a short-lived state. She obviously couldn't resist a hunk like Dylan Hunter. No offense, Adam."

"None taken. You need to move on, Joan. Show him you don't care."

Friedman says, "Excellent advice. And speaking of moving on, I need to get to the bookstore before first class. I'm exchanging my biology text for basic drawing."

Joan says, "You too?"

Glynis asks, "Wait, you guys are dropping biology?"

Friedman replies, "Joan wisely pointed out, since our science requirements have been met for graduation, why subject ourselves to the machinations of Ryan Hunter's mistress? After last semester's experience with Heugel, I could use a break."

Adam says, "Joan, you're taking basic drawing? You never showed an interest in art before."

"Unfortunately, my Mom's class was the only open spot. Talk about a frying pan to fire situation."

Glynis responds, "I took your mom's class last semester. it was fun. I'll have to stick with biology."

Adam says, "And I want to stick with Glynis."

Joan asks, "What about you, Grace? It's not too late to switch."

"I'll think about it, but there's probably no need. I don't think I'm even on Ryan Hunter's radar."

X X X X X

Back at the airport, in the long-term parking lot, Will is just finishing the removal of snow from the car. Ryan's limo pulls up beside him, and Ryan exits the limo...

"I'll just be a few minutes, my dear." (Ryan closes the car door.) "Will, I thought that was you."

"Hello Ryan, are you returning from vacation too?"

"Yes, a ski trip with my lady friend."

The two men are now directly in front of each other. Will holds out his hand, but Ryan pointedly places his hands in his coat pockets.

"Is there a problem?"

"Did you really think you could launch an investigation of me, in this town, without me finding out about it?"

"Ryan, I have no idea what you are talking about."

"No? You didn't authorize that sergeant of yours, what's-his-name..."

"Carlisle?"

"That's the one. Apparently he has spent the last week digging into my finances and my whereabouts on certain dates over the last few months."

"I've been on vacation since Christmas day, and I left firm instructions I wasn't to be disturbed unless it was an emergency. I don't know what Carlisle has been up to, but he's a good cop. He wouldn't be investigating the leading citizen of Arcadia without cause. Care to tell me the why of all of this?"

"It seems someone anonymously sent some faxes to Carlisle which included a record of large cash withdrawals from my debit card account. Sergeant Carlisle is trying to link those amounts to Paul Atwell and Ed Heugel."

Will pauses, for Ryan has all but admitted what he has long suspected. Ryan has an informant somewhere high up in the police department. He refrains from asking about that, and instead asks, "And is there a link?"

"Of course not. Hell man, I was the one who gave you Heugel's name."

"Then where did all that cash go?"

"Some to gambling, some to incidental expenses, but most went to support a couple of mistresses."

"Two? At the same time?"

"Don't judge me Will. My private life is not a police matter."

"That remains to be seen. Would one of those women be Vera Lewis, the new science teacher at Arcadia High?"

"How...how did you know?"

"You haven't been as discreet as you think. The rumor of your relationship with Miss Lewis is already circulating around the school."

"Oh really?" Ryan says as he strides over to the limousine and raps a couple of times on the roof. The elcetric sunroof slides open, and Vera pops up through the opening. She is wearing a mink coat.

"Yes Ryan?"

"Vera, did you let slip any details of our relationship to the people at the high school?"

"Of course not. I remember all you said about the need for discretion. Say, who's your cute friend?"

"A police officer."

"Oh. Well, bye then."

Vera begins lowering herself back into the limo.

Will calls out, "Miss Lewis!"

Halfway down, Vera stops and rises back up. "Yes sir?"

"Have you been accepting large sums of cash from Mr. Hunter over a period of several months?"

"Am I in trouble?"

"Not if you tell the truth."

"It's just the way you phrase it. You make me sound like a prostitute. I'm just a girl with a rich, generous boyfriend."

"How generous?"

Vera desperately looks to Ryan for guidance. Ryan grunts, "Tell the truth."

Vera shrugs. "It varied. Between fifteen hundred and two thousand each week."

"And did this start last April?"

"Around then. Shortly after we began dating."

Ryan says, "You may as well tell him about Marla, too."

"We agreed to never speak of her again."

"Tell him!"

"Hmph! Alright, I had a room mate, Marla Bennett. Ryan met her through me. What I didn't know is that Ryan made a similiar arrangement with her. Ryan is a man, so I expect the morals of a mongrel dog, but Marla was a close friend for years. I thought better of her."

Will asks, "When did you learn the truth?"

"September. I gave Ryan an ultimatum. Marla or me." (Vera smiles and strokes her mink.) "I won."

"Thank you, Miss Lewis. That's all for now."

Vera blows a kiss and gives a little fingers-wave to Ryan before lowering herself back into the limo. The roof slides shut.

Will says, "I'll want full statements from both women. If their stories check out, I'll call off Carlisle."

"Thank you. Will, we both know the source of this so-called 'anonymous' information."

"We might speculate..."

"Dylan told me he found the same information on Joan's computer."

"What was your nephew doing in my daughter's bedroom?"

"Getting the shock of his life. Frankly Will, if you weren't a friend, I'd be suing the whole lot of you. This is over the line, and has to stop."

Will sighs. "I know. I promise you, one way or another, I'm getting Joan into therapy."

"I can accept that, but not with my brother. John had his chance and blew it."

"Alright, someone else."

Ryan opens the door of the limo and gets in.

"For all of our sakes Will, make it soon."

Ryan closes the door and the limousine pulls away. Will takes out his cell phone and presses in a number from memory.

"Will Girardi calling for Fran Montgomery..."

X X X X X

Back at Arcadia High, in the art classroom, Joan and Friedman sit side-by-side as the other students trickle in before the second bell.

Joan asks, "I wonder if the school managed a substitute for class?"

"If not, we may be stuck with Price as the sub."

Joan moans. "Can this day get any worse?"

Friedman blushes and replies, "Actually, yes. I'm about to do something stupid and embarassing."

"This sounds ominous. Spill it."

"Remember Grace's bat mitzvah last year?"

"Sure, we all were there. It was a beautiful ceremony, and I recall you had a good time at the party afterwards."

"Exactly. The party was fun for all. The thing is, my kid brother David is having his bar mitzvah on Saturday. It's mostly for family and friends, and of course, David's school chums. But Grace will be there as our rabbi's daughter, and I'm allowed to invite one guest."

"And you're inviting me?"

"Yes. I usually go to these things stag, but that's getting so embarassing. Even my thirteeen year old brother has a date. Please don't say no."

"So this would offically be a date?"

"I suppose one could, technically, catagorize this as a date-like event."

"Then I accept."

Friedman's face expresses joy. "Really? I mean, great!"

(The bell rings.)

"Friedman, we've become friends lately, right?"

"I like to think so."

"I'd hate to jepordize that friendship. Can we agree to keep this date casual?"

"Oh...of course. I even promise not to try any funny business."

"Thanks. And one more favor? I've noticed when you dance, you tend to get a little enthusiastic with your dance partners."

Friedman smiles. "The Friedman dance generator will be set at half-power."

A frazzled-looking Helen hastens into the classroom...

"Sorry everyone. Sorry I'm late."

"Mom? What are you doing here?"

"We caught an earlier flight. More importantly, what are you doing here, Joan? Aren't you suppose to be in biology? You too, Friedman."

Joan replies, "We switched to basic drawing."

"Why?"

"Uh, is this really the time and place?"

Helen notices the interest of the other students...

"No, but I want to talk later... Welcome everyone to basic drawing."

X X X X X

At the end of the first period in the biology classroom, Gavin Price stands at the front of the class as the dismissal bell rings...

"Read the next chapter in your textbook for tomorrow. Hopefully, we will all be on a more regular schedule by then. Class dismissed."

The students stand, but Price beats everyone out the door. After the room has emptied, Luke and Grace share a hug.

"Dude, when you came into class carrying that late slip, I was totally shocked. Joan said you weren't due back until tomorow afternoon."

"We caught a flight at dawn, and then got a ride directly from the airport. I really missed you, Grace. Did you get my messages?"

"Yeah, sorry for not responding, but like I told you before you left, I had some issues to work out...in therapy."

"Are you ready to share this yet?"

"After school, okay? When we have more time."

"The time isn't important. I don't care if I'm late for the next class, and this room isn't used this period. Grace, please tell me what's happening with you. I need to know. How can I offer help or support if I don't know what's going on?"

Grace turns and walks to the window. She closes her eyes before responding.

"Last month, when my Mom caught us, ya-know..."

"Having sex."

"That stirred a lot of memories that I've been trying to repress for years. You probably noticed that when we became sexually active, I began to change. All those walls I had erected in my mind to dull the truth began to crumble. When Mom caught us, the last wall fell. I couldn't deny the truth any longer."

"What did you remember, Grace?"

"When...when I was about five years old, I was molested."

"Oh God."

Grace turns and looks Luke in the eye. "Don't bother trying to figure out who. You never met him. It was some old dude that use to babysit me. He's dead now. Only his handiwork remains."

"Grace, I'm so sorry."

"Yeah, me too. Not just because of what he did, but because of how he is still shaping my life."

"What do you mean?"

"Before old man Knopf started getting his kicks by rubbing his hands all over my private parts, I was Gracie Polansky--a little girl who loved pink dresses, stuffed animals and giggling with her girlfriends about who was the cutest boy in class. If Knopf had never touched me, who would I be today? Would I be some vapid blonde who hangs at the mall flirting with guys while obsessing over gossip and fashions?"

"That's a little hard to imagine."

"But that's the path I was on until that old pervert got his hands on me. Now I'm Grace Polk, but who the hell is that? I'm like this piece of clay that Knopf molded into the person you see now."

"Grace, you're a strong young woman who is very much her own person."

"Am I? My hatred of dresses, make-up and all things feminine is due to Knopf. My mistrust of authority is due to him. My embracing of radical politics at a ridiculously young age was due to him because it gave me a way to vent the anger I felt all the time. Most of all, the trust issues I have are due to that rotten pervert. That affected everyone of my personal relationships, including...my choice of boyfriend."

"So, I'm your boyfriend because you felt you could trust me? Was that because I was a geek, or because I was younger?"

"Both, but mostly it was because you're the nicest guy I have ever met. I'm so sorry Luke for all I've put you through. Our relationship has been a long series of tests, starting with that stupid privacy contract, and ending with my so-called sexual addiction."

"Ending? What are you saying, Grace? Don't you love me anymore?"

"Grace Polk loves you, but I'm no longer sure that's who I am." (Grace begins to cry.) "I think we should take a break from each other until I'm more sure of myself."

"A break? For how long?"

"I don't know. These things don't run on a time schedule. Look, if you feel you can't wait, I'll understand."

Grace wipes away her tears, but can't bring herself to look at Luke. He moves forward and gently hugs her.

"I love you Grace, no matter what, and I'll gladly wait for you. Take the time you need, and remember, the biggest part of boyfriend, is friend. Whatever you want or need, I'll be there."

"Damn Dude, you really are one of the good ones. Now you runalong. You need to get a late slip for your next class."

"You're staying here?"

"Yeah, I just might do some more crying, and I don't want to give those payasos in Spanish class a show."

They embrace one more time, and Luke exits.

X X X X X

Over in the art classroom, Helen is at her desk while a fidgety Joan stands before her.

"Mom, can we speed this up? I'm already late for French class."

"I've written you a late slip. Now, why are you in my art class?"

"I need a credit in arts to graduate."

"No, you don't. Your role in last year's musical fulfilled your arts requirement. Friedman's too."

"Fine, you're going to make me say it. I didn't want to be under the authority of my enemy's girlfriend."

"The Ryan Hunter obsession again. And are you dragging Friedman into this?"

"Actually, I think the guy has a crush on me. That's why he followed me into your class."

"That's a relief. At least you haven't included him in your..."

"Delusion?"

"Paradigm. Still, I hate to see Friedman wasting his time mooning over you."

"I, uh, accepted a date with him for Saturday. We are going to his brother's bar mitzvah."

Helen tries hard to supress a laugh. "You're...dating Frtiedman?"

"Just casually, and is that a snicker?"

"Sorry. I just never thought Friedman was your type."

"He's a nicer guy than most people give him credit for. Besides, I didn't want to hurt his feelings. Is there anything else? I've got to get to class."

"Yes. I shouldn't be giving you this heads-up, but I'm going to. Your father and brothers haver decided to present a united front in pressuring you back into therapy."

"I see. And where do you stand on this?"

"I said I wouldn't oppose them. I'm sorry Joan. I want to believe you, but even if some of the things you've said about Ryan are true, you've gone about it in a very blunt way."

"Well, I'm sorry for my lack of finesse. I'm sorry I was as open and honset as I could be with my family. Most of all, I'm sorry I ever expected my family to trust my instincts over the smooth lies of a stranger."

"I just wanted to prepare you for what's ahead."

"Okay, I'll go."

"You will? Just like that?"

"I'm learning you have to pick your battles. This one isn't worth the effort. I'm sure Dr. Hunter can squeeze me in for a few sessions."

"Thank you, Joan. I'm sure this will go a long way towards easing tensions in the family."

"Don't get me wrong, Mom. I'm not okay with this. The family has drawn a line, and has placed me on the other side. You may think you're straddling that line, but you're not. Now, I want to prepare you. This line may be impossible to erase."

Joan picks up the late slip, turns and exits. A single tear rolls down Helen's face.

Helen whispers, "Joan..."

X X X X X

Out in the hallway, Joan walks to her locker. Goth Kid God is waiting...

"Hello Joan."

"What do you want now? I accepted the date with Friedman. Is there more? What am I saying? There's always more."

"You seem upset, Joan."

Joan lowers her head to her locker door. A few tears roll down her cheek.

"I'm tired, God. It's just too much. I'm fighting against Ryan and my family at the same time. And now Dylan is hooked-up with that ungrateful little skank, Dillon Samuels. I knew Dylan would move on, but I didn't realize how much it would hurt. Why did you ever encourage me to be with him when our relationship was doomed to fail?"

"Based on free will choices, there were numerous scenarios where the two of you could have worked as a couple. But Joan, you and Dylan always faced immense spiritual opposition."

Joan looks at Goth Kid God with curiosity. "Spiritual? You mean...the other side? But why would hell care if Dylan and I were a couple?"

"Your romantic interlude with Dylan caused a panic amongst the opposition. Both you and Dylan come from long bloodlines of those with great spiritual abilities. Your offspring..."

"Hey, whoa! Offspring? Dylan and I weren't thinking of anything along those lines."

"Really Joan, can you envision any long term relationship with Dylan Hunter that didn't lead to marriage and children?"

Joan pauses and nods her agreement. "I suppose not. Dylan was already freaked about violating the no premarital sex rule. It wouldn't have been long before he was pushing for marriage. So, if we had actually had a kid, it would have been like a...prophet?"

Goth Kid smiles. "Or something like that."

"Then all those times I wanted to be with Dylan, but couldn't go through with it, that was the other side taking me over?"

"No Joan, you always had free will. However, the other side is experienced at telling lies and in exploiting any weakness. They know how to find any chink in your armor."

"I have a chink?"

"Your dear mother did her best not to allow her personal tragedy to affect your life, but Helen subconciously instilled in you a hyper-cautious nature in matters of sex. That is why you have always struggled in this area. And this is why whenever you and Dylan reached a critical moment, the enemy would nudge your 'chink', and you would slam-on-the-brakes, as you like to say."

"Wait one darn minute, How much nudging did you do in my relationship with Dylan?"

"Only a little, and I swear to you Joan, both of you still had free will. At most I accelerated the natural attraction you two had for each other."

"What was the rush?"

"You were needed to be deeply involved in Dylan's life in order to counter balance the ripples caused by John Hunter's disobedience."

Joan stares with open-mouth astonishment. "Dr. Hunter disobeyed you? That doesn't seem possible."

Goth Kid God nods solemnly. "Yes, in John's entire adult life, it is the only time he has done so. That is a remarkable record, Joan."

"So what happened?"

"When I gave John his assignment to come to Arcadia to be your protector, I instructed him to leave Dylan behind in California under the care of his sister. Unfortunately, for many years John has burdened himself with guilt over Ryan's life path. He feels if he had been there to guide his younger brother during his critical teen years, then he might have kept Ryan from going down his dark path. But because he was involved with his begining career and own young family, John was too busy to help Ryan when he needed it most."

"Dr. Hunter wasn't responsible for the consistent life choices Ryan made."

"True, but he assumed the blame anyway. When the Arcadia assignment came, John saw a chance to reconcile with Ryan, and help his brother turn from his wicked ways. He remembered Ryan's fondness for Dylan, and saw his son as the only hope he had to accomplish his goal."

"He was willing to risk Dylan to save Ryan?"

"Because of their long separation, John was unaware of how adept Ryan had become at corrupting others. It never occured to John that his son was at risk."

"Is that where I came in?"

"Yes Joan. The moment Ryan reconnected with his nephew, he knew he wanted to bring Dylan over to his side. You temporarily blocked those plans."

"But what good did it do? Dylan and I are over, and Ryan is free to act."

"You made a great difference, Joan. If it weren't for you, Dylan Hunter would be dead by now."

"D-Dead? But Dylan is the only person Ryan still cares about. He wouldn't kill his own nephew, would he?"

"Not unless he felt it necessary. However, Ryan has surrounded himself with like-minded allies, some of whom are violent and difficult to control. Before Ryan would have realized the danger in recruiting his nephew, one of his underlings would have killed Dylan to protect the secrecy of the group."

"But that's not going to happen now, right?"

"It rermains a free will option, but it is a much less likely scenario. Ryan has learned his lesson, and plans to keep Dylan away from his more dangerous activities. Still, Ryan has gained nearly full sway over the boy, and Dylan has taken his first step down a very dark path."

Joan gulps hard. "Dark path? You mean...like Judith?"

"Yes, but don't despair, Joan. You met Judith when she was already deep into her journey of darkness. Dylan has only just begun his."

"What can I do to help?"

"At the moment, nothing. Dylan has made his free will choices, and consequences must begin to play themselves out. In time your opportunity to counter balance will come."

Joan sighs deeply. "God, this is so overwhelming. I'm trying my best, but I know one mis-step by me could get somebody killed. I feel that I'm not handling things right. That I need a better approach."

"Perhaps your mother was right. Your approach has been too blunt."

"I told you going into this, I wasn't up to the task. I'm only eighteen. Finesse is more Ryan's forte."

"Or perhaps you haven't been blunt enough."

"Well, which?"

"Turst me Joan. Trust your training. Trust your instincts."

Goth Kid God turns and walks away, giving the 'wave' as he goes.

"That certainly cleared everything up!" Joan calls back with sarcasm.

X X X X X

Back at the biology classroom, Grace sits alone at her usual place. An open textbook is before her, but she is still gently crying. Vera Lewis enters...

"Miss Polk? What's wrong?"

Grace quickly tries to wipe away her tears. "Miss Lewis, I thought you weren't here today."

"I'm running late due to weather delays. I'll be teaching my afternoon classes. Grace, have you been here since biology class ended?"

"Yeah, sorry."

"That's okay. Clearly you have a problem that's overwhelming you. Would you like to visit the school nurse or counselor?"

"I'm...already in counseling."

"Oh. Well, I don't want to pry. I know I've only been your teacher for a short time, but I did notice before Christmas break that there was a strain in your relationship with your lab partner. Grace, is there some sort of harassment problem?"

"What? Oh God, no. Luke is my boyfriend. Was my boyfriend. Or maybe still is. I'm not sure."

Vear smiles warmly, puts her arm around Grace's shoulder and gives her a brief hug. "I understand Grace. It's only been six years since I graduated out of this very school. It can be a confusing, pressure-filled time when you're not sure who you are, or what path you should take."

"There's a nail-on-the-head statement. That's exactly the way I've been feeling."

"My best advice Grace, is to give whatever you're facing time to resolve itself. I swear, it's almost magical how the perspective of time can clear up those days of confusion."

"Thank you, Miss Lewis. I guess I better get going. I can't afford to miss another class."

Vera removes a pad from her pocket and scribbles a hall pass. She hands it to Grace.

"Grace, I know I'm new, but I'd like to be your friend. If you need a sympathetic ear, or a shoulder to cry on, please know that I am available."

Grace smiles shyly and nods her thanks. She exits.

X X X X X

Downtown at police headquarters, Will is reviewing a mountain of paperwork. There is a rap on the door, and Carlisle enters.

"Welcome back, Boss. You wanted to see me?"

"Yes, close the door."

Carlisle complies.

"Sergeant, what were you thinking when you launched an investigation of a man like Ryan Hunter without my authorization?"

"You were on vacation, and I was left in charge of the anti-religion case, wasn't I?"

"Yes, and normally I wouldn't interfere, but Ryan Hunter? You would need a compelling reason to go there."

"When I got into the office the day after Christmas, I had a couple of anonymous faxes waiting on my desk. The first one pointed out that Ed Heugel was in the hospital the nights of the first two attacks in Arcadia."

"Which could simply mean that Atwell operated on his own at first, and recruited Heugel later on."

"Except, I remembered the first attack actually occured in Marston in late March. The Marston cops are certain there were two perps in on that vandalism. They found two sets of footprints, both size eleven. One set was made by military style boots, and the other by a pair of expensive jogging shoes. Heugel wore size nine."

Will asks, "How does this tie in with Ryan Hunter?"

"The second fax was a summary of all of Mr. Hunter's debit card transactions. Our anonymous tipster high-lighted the large cash withdrawals Ryan made on a weekly basis."

"AN amount that was cut in half right after Paul Atwell died."

"You know about this?"

"Ryan Hunter confronted me at the airport about your investigation. He already has a plausible explanation as to where the cash went."

"Good to know. However, I caught something our Mr. Anonymous missed. Three days after the Marston incident, Ryan bought a new pair of jogging shoes just like the ones worn in the Marston crime. Size eleven."

"Maybe his old pair was worn out?"

"His previous pair, same size and model, were bought in February."

"Maybe Mr. Independently Wealthy buys new running shoes every couple of months?"

"Not according to his debit card."

"Interesting. How do you plan to proceed?"

"I'm starting with a complete background check, and I'm seeing if the guy can produce an alibi for the dates of the religious attacks."

"Don't bother. I've been checking up on our Mr. Hunter since all of this began. His background is spotless, and he has an iron clad alibi for every incident that occured in Arcadia."

"Chief, you suspected him all along?"

"No, but your anonymous source came to me first, and I was obligated to follow through."

"At least that saves us time. What should I do next?"

"Double check the Marston report. Make sure we didn't miss anything. Also, begin checking Ryan's alibi about the cash withdrawals. I've already transferred that information to your computer. And Sergeant, remember this is a man we need to tip-toe around."

"Just like the old days. I just wish I knew if our anonymous source was reliable, or some nut with an axe to grind."

"Carlisle, you have no idea despertately I wish to know that too."

X X X X X

That evening, Joan enters the Girardi home and proceeds to the dining room where she finds her family waiting for her...

"Well, my loving family. I don't see any food on the table, so I can only asume this is some form of intervention?"

Will says, "Sit down, Joan. We need to have a serious discussion."

Joan sighs. "Here we go again. You four amateur shrinks get to express your opinion of my psychological state, but if I dare offer an opposing opinion, then I must be crazy. God, I'd sooner go back into therapy than have to endure this again."

Will responds, "Do you mean that? Because that's where we were heading."

"Really. Then maybe we can work something out."

"You're proposing some sort of deal?"

"Why not? All I want is to have peace in my home while I work things out. I'll agree to go into therapy if the four of you agree to make Ryan Hunter a taboo subject around me."

"That sounds workable."

Luke says, "Don't believe her Dad, it's a trick. Joan doesn't plan to take her therapy seriously."

Joan snaps, "Stay out of this, Dog-boy."

Kevin asks, "Yeah Luke, how do you know if Joan is serious?"

"Because Joan has gone way beyond expressing her opinion. Joan and our friends have been following Mr. Hunter around town, trying to catch him in illegal activities."

"Luke, you Judas! You gave your word."

"I'm sorry Joan, but I've seen too vividly how ignoring a problem can mushroom against you. I care for you too much to allow that to happen."

Helen asks, "Joan, is what Luke said true?"

"Yes, and the reason he knows is because he did it too!"

"Luke?"

"Joan persuaded Grace and the other sub-defectives to go along with her insanity. I briefly participated, but I couldn't continue the charade."

Will begins, "Joan..."

"Dad, for months you've been saying I don't have any proof. I was just trying to get you that proof."

"By tailing Ryan like some sleazy P.I.? By rummaging through police files? By hacking into his financial records?"

Kevin remarks, "Wow. Joan did all of that?"

Joan shrugs. "I'm sorry, but when you're cleaning up a mess, you sometimes have to get your hands dirty."

Will responds, "And what of the consequences? Only the last shreds of our friendship is keeping Ryan from suing our asses off."

"Dad, you told him?"

"No, Ryan told me, and he was royally pissed. Joan, you've got to stop. This family can't survive another lawsuit."

"What do you want from me? I already said I'll go into therapy. I'll call Dr. Hunter right now and make an appointment."

"No. Ryan's one condition is that John Hunter not be involved."

"Damn Dad, is there still room in my back for this latest knife? You're letting Ryan pick my shrink?"

"No, I am. I've already made an appointment for you with Fran Montgomery on Friday. I've briefed her on all that's been going on, and after her evaluation, if she recommends it, I want you to agree to a voluntary commitment."

Helen gasps, "Oh Will, is this necessary?"

"It's what's best for everyone."

Aghast, Joan stares into the faces of her family, one by one. They each avoid her gaze, except for Will, who tries to stare her down. Joan gazes upward and steels herself for the battle.

"Mom, this morning you accused me of being too blunt. I now realize I haven't been blunt enough. Dad, my answer to you is, NO. I won't be seeing Dr. Montgomery on Friday, nor any other hand picked shrink whose mind you've polluted against me. My original offer is still on the table, but I will choose the therapist. And, I will NEVER submit to a voluntary commitment."

"Then you leave us no choice. We will have you committed against your will."

Helen cries, "Will, no!"

Luke begins, Dad, maybe..."

Will shouts, "Everyone, we agreed to a united front! Don't crumble just because it's getting rough."

Joan snarls, "You want rough? Try going ahead with that plan. As of November twenty fourth, I'm a legal adult. You have no control over me."

"As your family, we have standing with the courts."

"Kevin, you've covered a few of these forced commitments. What's involved?" Joan asks.

"When people seek to commit a family member who is of legal age, they have to prove to the court that she may be a danger to herself or the community."

"Good luck with that."

Kevin continues, "If the court agrees, the patient is hospitalized for forty-eight hours while three board certified psychiatrists examine her. The doctors have to be unanimous for the commitment to stick."

"And how are those doctors picked?"

"To protect everyone's rights, the family, the court and the patient each get to choose one."

"My choice, should it ever go that far, would be Dr. John Hunter, who has already certified me sane. I'm one hundred percent certain he would stick with that diagnosis. If you don't believe me, go next door and ask. I'll wait."

Will sighs. "Okay, so we can't commit you, but don't you care if this family is ruined in a lawsuit?"

"Once again, I'm an adult. The only one Ryan could sue would be me, and even if he won, what could he get? Besides, he won't sue. The publicity would ruin his political ambitions. Kevin, you're in the business. Would the story: 'City Council President Sues Student Council President' attract a lot of attention?"

"Every media outlet in the state would cover the story. Ryan would be a laughing-stock for suing a teenager."

"Okay, last chance on my offer. Going once, going twice..."

Helen calls out, "We'll take it!"

Luke says, "I agree."

Kevin nods. "So do I. Dad?"

Will grits his teeth. "Yes, alright, if you seek counseling, with the therapist of your choice, then the subject of Ryan Hunter is forbidden around you."

Joan smiles. "Cool. This fun, Girardi family meeting, is now adjorned."

Joan turns, begins to walk away, but pauses. She looks back over her shoulder...

"And Luke, those who betray the group, are out of the group."

Joan continues walking, and goes up the stairs.

Will asks, "What the hell happened here?"

Kevin shrugs. "She won."

X X X X X

1-7-06/late Saturday afternoon.

A large number of people are exiting Temple Beth Israel at the end of services. Joan and Friedman walk down the steps and pause in front of the building.

Friedman says, "Sorry it took so long."

"Hey, I knew what to expect. I was here last year, remember? And the temple looked great. The repairs are so perfect, you can't tell there was a fire."

"Yeah, it turned out good. So, what did you think of my little brother? Wasn't it hilarious the way his voice kept cracking?"

"Be nice. He can't help it at that age. At least you didn't laugh. In fact, I was surprised by how well-behaved you were during the service. Last year, you kept cracking jokes and making crude comments."

"I guess I'm taking my religion a lot more seriously."

"What brought that on?"

"Partly it was the wake-up call of the fire, and partly it was Dylan."

"Dylan? What do you mean?"

"When Dylan started school, we hit it off as friends right from the start. One of the things that impressed me was his dedication to his faith. He and his father were searching all over Arcadia for a new home church. Just for laughs, I invited Dylan to come to temple, and to my surprise, he came."

"Dylan, Mr. Super-Christian, came to temple?"

"He told me the New Testament says Christianity is a wild branch that has been grafted onto the Jewish vine."

"Oh yeah, I remember reading that once."

"Anyway, he said understanding his faith's Jewish roots would help him understand his own faith more. He asked a ton of questions, most of which I couldn't answer. That's when I realized I only had a superficial knowledge of my own religion. Since then, I've dedicated myself to gaining a deeper understanding of my faith."

A voice from behind says, "And he has been an excellent student."

Joan and Friedman turn to see Rabbi Aaron Polonsky standing nearby.

"Hello Rabbi. Friedman was telling me of the time Dylan Hunter visited."

"Ah yes, young Mr. Hunter. He wasa like a sponge, soaking up knowledge. I remember him saying he was dating you, Joan."

"Oh, well, that didn't last long."

"Obvioiusly not if you're dating Theodore."

"Theodore? Oh right, Friedman. I keep forgetting that's your first name."

"Since we're going to be surrounded by Friedmans at the party, maybe you should call me Theodore."

"Not a problem. So Rabbi, how are you enjoying your time on city council?"

"I wouldn't say enjoying so much as enduring. Mostly it's a matter of budget meetings and fairly allocating limited funds amongst so many needs."

"I don't envy you. What do you think of the council president, Ryan Hunter?"

Friedman cautions, "Joan..."

"Shh, I'm being blunt. Well Rabbi?"

"He's an intelligent, polite, dedicated public servant."

"Yeah, that's the public image, but I was more interested in your gut instinct. You know, as a man of God who is familiar with the good and evil ways of people. How do you fell about Ryan?"

Rabbi Polonsky shakes his head. "I'm not comfortable with this."

"Let me put it another way. Does he pass the usual tests people judge by: would you buy a used car from him, trust him with your daughter's virtue, or with your immortal soul?"

"That's much too odd to answer."

"Allow me to rephrase. If you and Ryan were standing before God, and he asked you: Is this a good man? How would you answer?"

"Why are you doing this, Joan?"

"Because I'm trying to get you to face something your intincts are telling you, but your head won't accept."

"About Ryan Hunter? I can't think of a single negative thing to report about the man."

"Then why can't you answer my 'odd' questions? Put aside what's in your head. Isn't your heart telling you he's evil?"

"No, of course not. I don't think of people in those terms. That is...I-I just can't say it. Not out loud."

"That he creeps you out? Makes your skin crawl? That you know, all the way down to your soul, there's something seriously wrong with this guy."

Polonsky looks about nervously. "I have been so ashamed of these feelings, but you have them too? No, what am I saying? This is crazy. Ryan Hunter led the fund drive to rebuild this synagogue. He got shot at because of that."

"Ryan Hunter is responsible for the burning of this synagogue. His hired thugs did it, and the shots fired near him were a way to keep suspicion from him."

"How can you know these things?"

"Because I know and love God, just as you do. What we feel in Ryan's presence is a God-given instinct. The natural reaction of the godly to the presence of evil."

Polonsky stares hard at Joan. "Prove it. What you are claiming is the manifested favor of God. Let me see that favor."

"You...want a sign?"

"Exactly. We're all headed for the party. Before the evening is over, show me a sign of God's favor upon you. Do that and I pledge to believe all you say. Fail, and I will conclude you are some religious lunatic!"

Without another word, Rabbi Polonsky turns and walks away.

Friedman comments, "Joan, you are way out on a limb here."

"Have faith, Theodore. Have faith."

Joan takes Friedman's arm, and the pair strolls away...

X X X X X

A short time later at a downtown hotel ballroom, a festive crowd celebrates with food, music and dancing. Friedman and Joan enter. Grace is waiting by the double doors, and snaps their picture.

"Got it! Without photographic proof, no one would believe the two of you were on a date. Friedman, what did you use--drugs or hypnosis?"

"Would you believe my natural charm and good looks?"

"Try again."

"I pathetically begged?"

"That I believe. Girardi, what did you do to my Dad?"

"What do you mean?"

"All the way over here, he kept asking questions about you. Are you in therapy? On drugs? In a cult? You really freaked him out."

"Don't worry, Grace. It will all work out. So why didn't you invite Luke to this shindig?"

"Big Brain and I are taking a break from each other."

"Problems?"

"There are some private issues we have to resolve."

"Gotcha. I won't butt in. I just hope you guys can work it all out."

"Me too. Now if you'll excuse me, I have to circulate and take more pictures. Ah, the life of a rabbi's daughter."

Grace walks away.

Friedman asks, "What should we try first? Dancing? The buffet?"

"Actually, I'm parched. Can you get me some punch?"

"My pleasure. Be back in a minute."

Friedman walks away, and Joan spots Cheek Pincher God headed her way. Quickly, Joan covers her cheeks with her hands.

"Holding your hands like that, you look astonished."

"Just protecting myself."

"You look ridiculous. People will start to stare."

Joan glances about and sees that a few people are looking at her oddly. In a distant corner, she spots Rabbi Polonsky watching her. Reluctantly, Joan lowers her hands.

"Do you promise..."

Cheek Pincher God reaches out with both hands and pinches Joan's cheeks.

"Oooh, I just can't resist."

"Okay, now that you've got that out of your system, what do we do about Rabbi Polonsky?"

"The man looking for a sign? If only people realized, there are signs all around them. They only have to look."

Cheek Pincher God gestures with her head, and Joan looks in that direction. On the far wall, a man is his seventies sits at a table that is covered with family pictures. Above the table is a sign that reads: The Friedmans, 60 Years in America.

"Enjoy the party, Joan."

Cheek Pincher God walks away, giving a backhand wave as she leaves. Friedman returns and hands Joan a cup of punch.

"So, what should we do? Maybe...a moonlight walk in the garden?"

"Actually, I'd like to meet that older gentleman over there."

"Grandpa Tovya? Joan, you don't know what you're asking. He's my great-grandfather, and I love him, but he can be the most long-winded old bore you've ever met. Especially when he gets in the topic of our family history."

"How can I resist learning about the Friedmans in America?"

Reluctantly, Friedman escorts Joan across the room. The old man, Tovya, smiles broadly at the approach of his great-grandson. He speaks with a slight Germanic accent...

"Theodore, what did you think of your brother's bar mitzvah?"

"He did fine."

"Fine? He was perfect! Not a single mistake in his Torah reading, which is more than I can say about my oldest great-grandchild."

"I only made one goof, and I caught it right away. Besides, that was almost four years ago."

"Some mistakes follow you for a long time, Theodrore. Now, are you going to introduce me to this pretty young girl?"

"That was my intention. Joan Girardi, this is my great-grandfather, Tovya Friedman."

Joan extends her hand, and Tovya reluctantly shakes it.

"An honor to meet you, sir."

"So, your the Christian girl Theodore speaks so highly of."

"Grandfather!"

"Forgive me, I embarass my great-grandson with my old fashioned ways. In my day, people of different religions didn't date each other."

"A lot must have changed in your lifetime, sir. Sixty years in America--so you came here in 1946?"

Tovya nods. "Just after the war. I was the only member of my family to survive the Holocaust."

Tovya rolls up a sleeve and shows Joan a tatooed serial number on his arm.

"How horrible."

"You have no idea. Thank God Theodore's generation will never know this pain. I have only two photographs from before the war. Would you like to see them?"

"Yes sir, very much."

From one of the albums, Tovya removes a sepia tone photograph of five young boys, all dressed alike in shorts, white shirts and ties. The eldest boy looks exactly like Friedman.

Tovya says, "This was taken in 1938, just before the anschuss. I am the youngest one. I was only eight at the time."

Joan remarks, "Theodore, there's no denying this family resemblance."

Friedman nods. "Great-great uncle Baruch. He was sixteen then."

Tovya continues, "We were living in Linz at that time. We knew the Nazis were coming, and our father had a plan to get us across the border to Switzerland. The day we were to leave, our parents died in a car accident. Then the Nazis came, and we lost our chance to escape. But we had a Plan 'B'. We had forged papers that identified us as immigrant workers from Spain, a neutral country. My mother was half Spanish, and we all spoke the lahguage. Workers were in short supply during the war, and even children such as ourselves were needed. Because we were supposedly Spanish, we were despised and treated shabbily. Ironically, that kept people from suspecting that we were Jews. We weren't caught at our lie until 1944."

"What happened?"

"We never anticipated having to carry on the deception for so long. All identity papers eventually expire. When ours did, some bureaucrat routinely sent them to the Spanish consulate for renewal. Of course they spotted them as forgeries. We were arrested and sent to a concentration camp. It was less than a year before the American army liberated the camp, but by then my four brothers were all dead. God only knows how I survived."

"How sad to have lost everyone."

"Even sadder than I've told you. I also had a younger sister, Anna. She was four years younger than me. My parents were friends with an older couple, the Schmidts. They were a kind Christian couple who had been blessed witha baby girl while in their forties. Unfortunately, their daughter Gertrude died of pneumonia shortly before the Nazis took control. The Schmidts offered to take Anna, and to pretend she was Gertrude. We thought it was a godsend. They were lonely for their child, and we knew they would love her deeply. It seemed so much safer to leave Anna behind rather than take her with us. Over the years, one of us would check in with the Schmidts, and we saw Anna was thriving."

"What happened to Anna?"

"After my release from the concentration camp, I returned to Linz. Herr Schmidt was a foreman in a factory, and they lived just across the street from where he worked. The allies bombed the factory, destroying it and all the nearby homes. Anna and the Schmidts were all killed."

"I'm so sorry."

"As am I. When I was in the camp, I remember thanking God every day that our precious Anna was being spared that horror. For a long time I was very bitter towards God because of my sister. Eventually, I learned to put the past behind me. I made a good life for myself in this country, and now I have children, grandchildren and even great-grandchildren to comfort me in my old age."

Tovya rummages through the albums and removes a black and white photograph. It is of a pretty little girl, in a floral dress, who is holding a puppy in her arms. Tovya hands the picture to Joan.

"This is Anna. The only picture I have of her."

Joan stares at the photo, and her hand begins to tremble.

"I've seen this picture before. Or at least a slightly different version."

"That's not possible. This is the only surviving photo of Anna."

"No, I'm sure of it. The same girl, the same floral dress and the same puppy, except in the version I saw, the dog was on a leash. I remember his tail has a white tip..."

"How can you know this? You can't see the dog's tail in this picture, and it is the only one that exists!"

Joan speaks to herself, "But where?" (Snaps her fingers.) "Bert and Gert! Friedman, I mean Theodore, you've got to drive me somewhere right now! Mr. Friedman, I beg of you, don't leave this room until I get back."

Joan turns and strides toward the exit. Friedman gives Tovya a shrug and runs after Joan.

X X X X X

Meanwhile, at the Rove house, Carl and Lillian Figliola are on the couch watching a John Wayne DVD. The last two months were a time of striking revealation for Lillian. She was a woman who had learned to endure life. Shy and gawky in her younger years, she gratefully married the only man who ever showed an interest in her.

Lillian's marriage to her horrible ex-husband taught her that in exchange for 'companionship' and the blessing of a wonderful child, a woman endured that sick joke known as sex. It never ceased to amaze her that the media got away with glamorizing this embarassing, uncomfortable, pleasureless activity. When her 'ex' abandoned her and Glynis, it was one of the happiest days of her life.

But then, through Glynis and Adam, she met Carl. This hairy, gruff man who drank beer from the bottle, talked of sports and liked old westerns, inexplicably seemed interested in her, and even more inexplicably, she responded. It was flattering and oddly exciting at her age, and for only the second time in her life, to have a man courting her. Of course she knew where it was leading--to the one thing all men wanted and expected of a woman.

And so, in order to ensure the genuine pleasure of his continued companionship, Lillian dutifully went away with Carl that first weekend to endure the price women must pay. Oh God, she finally understood what all the fuss was about! If she weren't agnostic, she would be thanking the Almighty for sending her such a good man who, at his age, was not only still vigorous in bed, but also was frequently so.

Carl looks over to her and says, "Doing okay, Babe?"

And oh yes, he calls her Babe, which she finds endearing. Lillian snuggles her head against Carl's shoulder and sighs.

"Just fine."

X X X X X

Later that night, Grace paces anxiously in the hotel corridor outside the ballroom. The elevator dings, and a look of expectation is on Grace's face. The doors open, but only Joan steps out. Grace is crestfallen.

"Girardi, have you lost your mind?"

"Good to see you too, Grace."

"Do you realize what you've done? The things you said to old man Friedman spread through the party like wildfire. The old guy is about to jump out of his skin with anticipation."

"Then he's still here? Good. I was afraid he would leave."

"Leave? Are you kidding me? No one has left. No one is partying. Everyone is sitting quietly, starring at those doors, and waiting for, well..."

"A miracle?"

"Yeah, a miracle, and if you don't have one up your sleeve..."

The elevator dings again.

"Ask and you shall receive."

The elevator door opens and out steps Friedman and an elderly couple, each in their seventies. The man is Bert Coleman, retired forger and Joan's friend. The woman is Bert's wife, Gert.

Friedman says, "Grace, allow me to introduce my great-great aunt, Gertrude, and her husband, Bert Coleman. Grace is our rabbi's daughter."

Bert gives a friendly nod. "Nice to meet you."

Grace asks, "Then it's true?"

Friedman holds up the framed photograph of four year old Anna and her puppy.

Gert says, "I still can't believe it. After the war, I diligently searched the records, and they said all five of my brothers had died."

Friedman says, "Grandfather Tovya told me that at the end of the war, the Nazi bureaucracy was crumbling. They listed him twice as having been executed."

Grace asks, "Mrs. Coleman, weren't you and your adoptive parents suppose to have been killed in an air raid?"

"Like Theodore said, towards the end of the war, the system was falling apart. Our home was destroyed, but we survived in an air raid shelter. We lost everything in the bombing and became refugees. Eventually we settled in Vienna, where I continued with the name Gertrude Schmidt."

Bert adds, "At least until my hitch in the army. We married, and I brought my young bride to Arcadia back in '56."

Friedman exclaims. "Tovya and Anna have been living in the same city for fifty years!"

Grace shakes her head in disbelief. "This is amazing."

Joan asks, "Gert, are you ready?"

Gert grabs her husband's hand, takes a deep breath and nods. Joan and Grace each open one of the double doors leading into the ballroom. The crowd gasps at the sight of Gert, Bert and Friedman. Across the room, Tovya Friedman, trembling and leaning heavily on his cane, begins walking towards them. After a few paces, Gert lets go of Bert's hand and walks alone towards her brother. As they approach each other, Friedman holds up the framed photograph. Tovya sees it and nods. The elderly siblings meet in the center of the room...

"Mein Gott, Anna?"

"Oh, Tovya!"

They embrace, and the crowd errupts with joy. Everywhere people cheer and laugh and cry. Many raise their hands upward, praising God. The band begins to play the Hora as Bert and the rest of the Friedman family close in around Tovya and Anna, who are still hugging and crying. Over by the door, Joan and Grace watch the joyous reunion with tears unashamedly flowing down their cheeks. Rabbi Polonsky, also crying, joins them.

Joan wipes away her tears. "So Rabbi, is that what you had in mind?"

"Far more than I could have expected. There's no logic in this, but faith is not an exercise in logic."

Grace asks, "What's this all about?"

"Ryan Hunter. Well Rabbi?"

"Joan Girardi, from this moment forward, I pledge you my oath. Whatever you tell me about Ryan Hunter, I will believe."

"Cool."

The three of them turn and watch the happy crowd.

X X X X X

Back at the Girardi home at the end of the evening, Friedman escorts Joan up the steps to the front porch...

"Joan, you were amazing. Thank you."

"It was a special night. The kind of night that makes you think all things are possible."

"I agree. Well, goodnight, Joan."

Friedman holds out his hand.

"Theodore, a handshake?"

"I promised I'd keep things casual. Besides, I know you only went out with me because of friendship."

"Weren't you listening? This is a night when all things are possible..."

Joan leans forward and gives Friedman a tender kiss. They part and Friedman is clearly stunned. Smiling, Friedman returns the kiss. After a few beats, Joan holds up her hand, and he reluctantly lets her go.

Joan remarks, "Wow. You are a surprisingly good kisser."

Friedman smiles. "We aim to please."

"I just don't want you to get your hopes up. It would never work between us. You're only sixteen."

"I'll be seventeen in March."

"Which makes me about sixteen months older than you."

"And is that an insurmountable obstacle to those who believe all things are possible?"

Moving slowly, watching for any sign of rejection, Friedman embraces Joan They resume kissing.

X X X X X

Meanwhile, across town in an all night convenience store, a bored store clerk leafs through a magazine. Grace enters. The clerk briefly glances at her before returning to his magazine. Grace looks around the store, confirms she is the only customer and hurries to the medical section. Grace scans the shelves, grabs one item and rushes to the check out stand. The clerk reluctantly puts aside his magazine and rings up the item. It is a home pregnancy test kit.

THE END. PLEASE REVIEW.

At the end of the last episode, there was a footnote about the obscure, Emily Wilson. The name appears in the episode "Secret Service." Joan is sentenced to community service, painting the Oak Street Community Center. The first time she enters the building, she passes a sign that identifies the place, and its' director--Emily Wilson.


End file.
